Chapter Two

One Year Later

I let out a curse. The soup I was cooking was too salty. I dabbed the spatula I used to stir the soup on my hand again before bringing it to my tongue to taste it. I reared back.

Definitely too salty. Gideon was going to kill me.

Slight panic coursed through me at the thought, and I moved to add more water to the soup.

“SELENA.”

I jumped at the sound, turning to my brother, who was at the door of the kitchen.

“Yes,” I answered softly, my head low, not wanting to meet his eyes.

“Where is the coffee I insisted that you serve me every day as soon as I wake up?” he growled, his eyes hard.

I let out another silent curse. I had forgotten. “I—I’m sorry,” I said, stuttering. “I had to prepare the soup.”

“Who cares about the goddamn soup when I haven't had my coffee?” He took steps closer to me, his eyes thunderous.

My heart dropped as I shook my head, backing up into a corner of the kitchen while he got closer to me. Fear trickled down my spine. “I'm so sorry, Gideon. I'll make your coffee as soon as possible.” 

He was now inches in front of me. “Every action has consequences, Selena.” Before I could blink, his hand went to my hair, squeezing and pulling hard.

The pain from his tight hold made me release a scream. “Gideon, Gideon, please.” I whimpered as spikes of pain shot through my head.

“You need to be taught a lesson. Maybe next time you won't forget.”

He pulled my hair as he moved out of the kitchen, with me screaming in protest. “Gideon, please.” 

“You should have just died when you had that accident one year ago. Then maybe I would have been free of your useless self.” I whimpered as he growled and pushed me into the bathroom.

The bathtub was filled with water to the brim, and before I knew what he was doing, he pushed me towards it, dunking my head into the water.

My hands splashed and flailed everywhere, trying to hold onto anything as gulps of water forced themselves into my mouth. My throat started to clog as I tried to hold my breath while simultaneously trying to push my head back up. It was futile.

Bubbles escaped from my mouth to the surface as I struggled. I could hear Gideon's muffled insults while my head was under the water.

As seconds passed, I lost my strength and started to go limp. But before I could lose consciousness, he brought my head out of the water.

The air felt like chocolate as I took deep breaths in gasps, my chest heaving up and down as water dripped down my wet hair onto my clothes. Gideon's hand was still in a tight grasp on my hair.

My eyes were wide with panic, and I tried again to get out of his hold.

“Maybe you should just die now. You fucking bitch.” He dunked my head right back into the water.

****

That night, I lay on my bed. The pain in my head had numbed down. I stared at the ceiling as I thought about my life.

It had been a year since I had that accident that the doctors said had almost taken my life—the accident where I fell down the stairs.

I remember waking up with a blank memory and no idea about who I was and, hell, even where I was. The doctor had told me my name, and it had felt strange repeating it after them: Selena Ashford, a twenty-three-year-old.

Try as I might, I didn't even remember having a brother. Gideon had paid for my bills immediately after the doctor had declared me fit to go home, and as soon as I stepped foot into this house, he rained his fist on me.

Every move I had made since then, calculated or not, had been an irk to him. And he never let me forget it.

My hand subconsciously went to the gemstone attached to the necklace around my neck. The sea-green stone glittered under the lights in my room as I rubbed the mark embedded on it—a mark I had never seen before.

The gemstone was another mystery because I realized it had been on my neck the day I woke up. When I asked the doctors or Gideon about it, they looked at me as if I were sprouting nonsense.

After a while, it hit me that they actually didn't know what I was talking about because they could not see it.

I turned in my bed. What the hell happened on the day of my accident? Why couldn't I remember anything before it happened? Why couldn't anyone else see the gemstone on my neck?

The questions swirled in my head, acting as a lullaby in my brain before I closed my eyes, letting my tiredness take over.

In my dream, I dreamt of a woman. Irene Blackthorn, she was called. I dreamt of the powers she wielded and the kingdom she ruled. Her death came as a surprise to me in my sleep because she was so strong, powerful, and loved.

As the morning came, so did the tears from my eyes at the end of the dream. The bitter taste of betrayal clung to my tongue as my eyes fluttered open and I sat on my bed.

My head pounded as if my brain cells were having a party. I massaged my temple, wincing in pain. What the hell was that dream? Why did it seem so real?

The door to my room burst open, and my brother appeared at the door, a deep scowl on his face. “Get up, get dressed, and come downstairs, now,” he spat, and with that, he left.

I released a sigh as I stood from my bed, changing from my nightdress into sweatpants and a worn-out black T-shirt. With hesitation in my steps, I went downstairs, dreading whatever was going to happen next.

Now in the living room, I was standing, shifting on my feet uncomfortably as I took in the bulky men who were scattered on the couches in the middle. There were four in total.

I gave my brother a curious glance.

“These are the men you are sold to,” Gideon said with an air of indifference.

I blinked. I probably didn't hear him well. “What?”

A vein appeared on his head. “You are sold to these men. You are to be their slave and do everything they tell you to do. Everything.”

My heart pounded in my ears as my eyes widened.

The men threw me smug looks and wicked smirks. A new wave of fear trickled down my spine, and I took a step backward.

Gideon frowned at the movement. “Don't you dare move. You will follow them without any noise or struggle, like the good little bitch that you are.”

My hands were fisted at my sides. Like hell, I would.

Slowly, my gaze went to the door, and before I could make my legs move, one of the men got to me, bringing my hands tied in front of me and trying to hold me in place.

His big build didn't stop me from trying to struggle against his grasp. “LET ME GO,” I yelled, forcing my hands from his grip, my eyes hardening. “GIDEON, PLEASE LET ME GO.”

I was only met with disdain from my brother. Emotions swirled inside me, bringing tears and an unexplainable rage from within.

I welcomed the rage. It was better to feel that than to feel hurt. “Let me go.” This time I said calmly, glaring at the hulk of a man in front of me; the rage was brewing. Rising.

“Stop resisting, you bi—”

A beam of crimson-white light emanated from my hands, immediately going through the man and forming a huge hole in his body.

I blinked. What the hell?

It happened in a second, but I was sure everyone else in the room saw it.

My eyes were wide as the man stood there, his eyes and mouth wide open in shock as blood poured from the hole in his body. Then, slowly, he dropped to his knees and, after a bit, collapsed on the floor, immediately passing out.

I looked at my hands, which were still tied.

Again. What. The. Hell?